Q for Question
by AGL
Summary: Q and Huntress Vic and Helena are a happy couple on a trip to London but when and old buildings explodes they're caught up in a conspiracy against the most dangerous terrorist in Great Britain, the infamous V. Please Review
1. Chapter 1

I don't own the DC or Vertigo Comics Character, I'm not making any money…so please don't sue.

This is a crossover between the DC Comics Character The Question and Huntress and Vertigo's V…is an elseworld so no actual references will be made to current comics, animated series or V for Vendetta movie storylines, however if have not seen the movie I hope you wait until you do to read this fan fic.

It's set in London and it's influenced by the 1982-85 original vendetta Warrior Comic Strip.

Please be patient with me…they're intense and complicated characters.

Enjoy

Remember, Remember the Fifth of November

The Gunpowder Treason and Plot

I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason

Should ever be forgot

The Old Bailey, 11:58, November 4th.

People choose to stay inside their warm and comfortable houses tonight, away from the trouble of dealing with the infamous detectives of the state police known as "the fingermen", yellow warning had been issue since 11 o'clock everyday for the past 20 years, and everyone caught outside their houses can and shall be detained and processed for possible treason or sedition depending on the case. Most of them never come back anyways.

The once beautiful London has become gray and the spirit of the once great city had vanished into darkness and oblivion, Lewis Prothero the ex-colonel made by the Norsefire Party as the TV most recognizable face has just finished his late night show called "The voice of London" bashing the gay and Muslims communities outside Great Britain, little did they know that their comfortable retreat into emptiness was about to change.

A shadowy figure lurks around the old buildings close to the Old Bailey; he just appeared protected in a cloak and a mask, he didn't come alone bringing along a girl that seems to be alarmed, startled yet a little fascinated with the whole surreal situation, just a couple of minutes ago she was saved from being raped from three of those apes with badges.

He showed up and proceed to beat them with savagery I never seen before, yet he was comfortable and elegant doing it… he said things I didn't quite heard or understood and then he approached me with a pleasing stride… She didn't know what to say… Only she could asked was…who are you?

Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is it vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.

-Are you a crazy person? Asked the girl really scared.

-I'm quite sure they'll say so- V replies cheerfully.

He looks ecstatic and begins to dance without waiting for a song that almost immediately starts to play in the megaphones strategically placed across the street(since he has a newfound audience in the young girl) while watching the lady justice, the statue that stands on top of the Old Bailey, the Supreme Court Building.

-It is to Madam Justice I dedicated this concert-

They were playing 1812 from Tchaikovsky.

Meanwhile a racket comes from the street wakes an unusual fellow tonight, he is an American with an attitude, the designer of broken conspiracies and crazy patterns, a detective on leave…giving himself the well earned vacation… a couple of days with the girlfriend to the old country they said at the league; he feels her warm body beside him, the kisses her back, she smiles and there lies a beautiful Italian looking girl named Helena… she didn't seemed to listen to the sound that comes from the street… he looks around and find his wristwatch, he opens his eyes an is 11:58 and some crazy dude is listening to period piece… God I hate London.

He stands up looking for the boxers he happily took off some hours ago, he is wearing no mask now, since he is on rest and recreation… he looks out the windows, the song at first pissed him off, but eventually started to grown on him (beats the crap out of Britney Spears songs to be honest) he takes some time off, away from the invisible enemies that prowl in the night…his fingers go around this temples…it's getting louder but incidentally now the music was getting him relaxed and he started to remember…when he was just Vic Sage….10 years ago.

Originally I was just a television reporter for Hub City's KBEL network, and started to grow frustrated as the corrupt political officials I've investigated remained seemingly untouchable. My Sisyphean crusade, however, took a turn thanks to my friend, the now late Dr. Aristotle Rodor, the inventor of a skin-like substance called pseudoderm that, when used in concert with another of the doctor's inventions—a saffron gas capable of changing the color of one's hair and clothing—created a featureless mask that affixes tightly over the wearer's real face. Later I found out that the mask gas had psychotropic side effects, if I wear it for to long I will become permanently paranoid, the logical step was to finally include my name to my unseen but ever present enemy. Only I have the formula to the blending mask. I was now able to take a more direct approach to his investigations while preserving my anonymity Sage disappeared into the viscous smoke, leaving only the Question behind.

When the Justice League approached me 2 years ago and asked him to join their organization, I said yes without a thought. After all, I mused, they would have been suspicious of me had I said no. Have to face it I'm a muckraking conspiracy theorist seen as paranoid and crazy by my peers, even if I haven't make much progress in my theories this faceless man has nonetheless excelled as the League's resident private investigator, possessing detective skills and computer expertise roughly on par with Batman, (if I may say so)

He moves from the window in the room to the balcony, there is something wrong, I can feel it… the music does not comes from an apartment, it comes from the street.

I have a neck for trouble…

The guy with the white mask is dancing to the sound of the music… he seems to be both happy and excited… then he stops and with a dramatic pose and looks as the statue representing a scorned lover he starts a monologue.

-! Very well so you stand revealed al last. You are not longer my justice. You have his justice now, now that you have bedded another! -Two can play that game-

(He mimics the statues voice) –Sobbing who is she?-

-Her name is anarchy and she taught me more as a mistress than you ever did-

She has taught me that justice is meaningless without freedom; she makes no promises, and breaks none. He moves back and then spins around.

-Wonder why you could never looked me in the eyes…-now I know – throwing a red rose in front of the Old Bailey.

So goodbye my dear lady, I would be saddened by our parting, here is a gift I leave it as a separation souvenir.

And now without further to do I present you the crescendo of our song tonight.

The blast knocked him almost unconscious and threw him back to the bedside… Helena quickly woke up and like a cat move to the other side of the bed, she took Vic's overcoat since she was naked underneath the sheets…shards of glasses were everywhere and a sulfur smell filled the room… Vic swiftly got his pants on and making sure Helena was right nodded at her and was ready to leave when…

-What happened? - Helena asked without fear.

-Something blew up – Vic gave an automatic response. –Close and powerful was the explosive-

- Really Sherlock! - Helena now looking displease, she hate it when he patronizes her.

-Helena, as much I would like to keep up this debate…people can be hurt – He said getting to his shoes, leaving the room and going downstairs.

-So can I - Said Helena suddenly feeling an indescribable sadness… why things like this always happened to them? Why couldn't they be more normal? 3 months planning this and we only get two days, she knew that their vacation was over…

She just didn't know how over…


	2. Chapter 2

Inspector Finch was leaving work when he heard a bang from the Old London… he first suspected an attack on 10 Downing Street to the High Chancellor Sutler, but the red light in his car didn't light up, which meant that the attack was performed in another important somewhat less tactical location, the city has gone insane in the last couple of days, odd stories about a tall man with a theatre mask beaten up fingermen, not that he actually cared because those son of bitches were hired by Creedy the leader of the Norsefire Party, thugs and snitches doing his dirty work, national security they kept telling him… so why don't we ever have witnesses? Nobody to ask what happen, not a single proof of this vigilante, then a call comes in…. no tea for me tonight.

-Finch- Picking up the phone in the professional tone a well trained cop.

-Chief inspector Finch, you have been summoned to the Royalty Hotel Suite, leaders of the party are on their way- A manly voice in his mid-thirties was on the line, a norsefire political aide.

-It will take me 10 minutes- Finch replies.

-Make it 5, may I remind you that discretion is pivotal in this matter-

-No- and just hang the phone.

He knew that it was big and they were scared.

Vic couldn't get out in the front door, they were taking people to the lobby… but not the service of the hotel, but young soldiers wearing full body armor uniforms…it's not likely to happen, how can you get soldiers in here in 5 minutes? Unless you already have them here…good conjecture, not because of the recent attack but to protect the buildings and the tourists…but from what… I don't have time to figure out that one…not yet, but I will, I love this trip…too many questions, the transformation from the news reporter to the vigilante is slow but consuming, every second that passes Vic is in less control and that kook the questions seemed to take over.

I'm contemplating the possibilities and a soldier comes and grabs my arm. I don't like it so I pushed him away.

-Bollocks, mate- Don't make it hard on you, we have to move.

I pretend to understand him, but I don't want to go… I need to go to the John? I said pretending to be peeing in my pants.

What?

John…bathroom…the tinker, I said remembering all those BBC movies.

-You need to go to the tinker lad- Carry on…signaling the rest rooms, I'll pick you in a couple of minutes, don't want you tourist getting hurt or anything.

Before leaving I have to ask who old the building is.

-1700's it a defiant old lady, she won't break-

Thanks getting fast to the bathroom.

I miss my outfit, this civilian clothes (a black sweater and gray pants) made look older, I have to think fast, in a couple of minutes the soldier will come in a realized that I'm gone…that could be a problem since Helena is upstairs and I'm unable to communicate with her, I remember the traveling guide stating that the underground of London is one of the oldest in Europe, but whoever did this is not going through the underground, that would be obvious… they would use the sewer.

Time for a change (Helena is going to kill me) Get my mace can and something that looks like a paper sheet from my wallet…I put the sheet in front of my face and mace it…a viscous gas fills the room…and the Question emerges, my hair turned from Light brown to Black, and my speech takes a darker tone, my tone. I started to mumble Tchaikovsky 1812, obvious choice.

-You ok sir? must take you to the hall- The soldier said.

-Come in-

As soon as he came, a big powerful arm grabbed him inside…he never knew what hit him.

A shadow jumps out of the window, finds a sewer hole and jumps into darkness.

If he thinks I'm going to stick around waiting like the damsel in distress he is crazy!

Helena was already changed, black jeans and a purple sweater…she might have to do it without her usual dark purple cape…but Vic's brown overcoat will do…

Ok, third floor… can't jump…She looks around only to see the soldier and a police car arrived… can't climb off this window…what to do?

Simple… she doesn't have any guns and her lovable crossbow is home so she is technically unarmed, unless you consider butter knives as weapons… she opens the door only to find the soldier going inside every room… thinks fast, soldier, man, stupid.

The soldier opens up just to find this beautiful girl with her hair covering her breasts… he mumbles something, he looks back…she is inviting him…that's for sure, and he walks in only to be hit by a champagne bottle in the forehead.

She takes his bowie knife…she'll try the emergency staircases.

He's been gone 7 minutes… too long.

She walks out not knowing what happened or where is him, the only thing that is certain to her is that even he doesn't realize it, he needs her.

Evey moved fast through dark tunnels with this marked creature….She was scared and suddenly had to stop. She had to push him away.

He felt her fear, he stop and moves towards her.

-Who are you? - Evey asked frightened, everything is happening so fast around her, half an hour ago she was going to have a date, then they tried to rape her…he showed up and killed them…that made her an accessory to murder if she didn't go to the police right away, she'll be fucked, but no she cannot go because he blew up the Old Bailey…which made them terrorists…this is not happening, it's a surreal dream.

-Who is the form following the function of a what, and what I am is a man in a mask.- V answered.

-Well I can see that- Evey replies.

-Of course you can, I'm not questioning your powers of observation, I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.-

He's got that one right…said a frightening voice in the end of the tunnel, he stands tall...it's hazy because of the smoke from the pipes, but undoubtedly he is standing in the middle of the road… but there is something threatening in his stance, V wanted to test this newcomer.

-Abash the devil stood and fell how awful goodness is- V shouted to the silhouette.

-And fell how awful goodness is, John Milton, Paradise Lost- the person replies back.

-An enlightened man- V asked to the shadowy figure.

-No, just a nut with a taste for tragedy and conspirators-

-Did you happen to see the fireworks tonight?-

If you mean the explosion that ended my happy vacation, yes… Must I add that the music was an original touch, certainly dramatic for all purpose intended.

-My kind of man- V answered readily. Did Sutler send you to scourge and impoverish the people?

-No, but you just quote Brougham, Late 18Th century writer… how long do you want to keep this?-

-Not long- Dare I may ask the name of the executioner?

He takes a step forward so the lights shines upon his face…I am know as the Question.

-And the paradox continues its entropy.- V replies back.

Let's play.


	3. Chapter 3

November 5Th 12:10

Party Chairman Creedy was gathering his top men around the plaza…32 soldiers, divided in 4 groups of 8 soldiers with one captain leading, a shock force better prepared than normal militia to handle enemies of the state… they got in a SWAT vehicle and scramble in the houses around trying to control de situation…get hostages, talk to snitches, cut the phone lines close to the blast site, do whatever it takes to secure the premises, no excuses. Whoever did this should die before the night's is over.

Suddenly a man in his early forties approaches, with a comfortable stride wearing an Italian suit, Dascomb makes an entrance 9 minutes since being summoned by High Chancellor Sutler to this late and important meeting…he is in charge of propaganda to the Norsefire Party…is important to make up an story…a good one, and fast.

-Have any leads? - Asked Dascomb impatiently to Creedy.

-No- but we'll find them…answered angrily.

Dascomb got a camcorder and started making a small film that would be shown in tomorrows news, something simple…the destroy of and old building as a symbol of a decadent era…yes exactly, that is what I'm going to do… The High Chancellor would love it, he was so caught up in his ideas that he was almost run over by Chief Inspector Finch who just arrived a the scene.

-Mr. Creedy? - Finch asked to the man in charge.

-Yes Chief Inspector Creedy?-

-My men are going to secure the area in a couple of minutes-

-That wouldn't be necessary- Creedy reply with disdain, since the Norsefire Party arrive to power 20 years ago, this ageless man has been on the top, he has his own police and the full protection of the High Chancellor, some people speculate that he's the more powerful man in Great Britain. Who Knows?

-Ok- Should we go upstairs? Asked Finch

Yes, let's do it….Dascomb would you care to join us?

Evey didn't see when the man that presented himself like "V" jumped against the other one…you know the faceless one, but she heard the first hit…it sounded like a shotgun, V manage to hit the other man with the back of a knife in the chest that propelled him against the tunnel but in a display of athleticism the faceless man rolled backwards and stood up in a defensive stand.

V tried something similar but was greeted with a powerful kick to the chest that pushed him backwards… he stumble for an instant and the other one got around him and tried a choke hold… V was faster and took him down with a judo grab…they were to evenly matched to finished the fight anytime soon…but there was no time, people was already looking fot hem, she could feel it... it was fear.

Freeze! Shouted a powerful and commanding voice…this is the State Police, don't move and thrown your weapons to the ground! The Young Captain heard the ruckus and being a expert soldier decided with one group to check out the sewer tunnels. He found two men wearing masks and a scary little girl, possibly a hostage not more than ten feet away. He got lucky.

-Drop your weapons? - The voice repeated the command, now sounding more decided.

The man with the mask of Guy Fawkes lifted both arms showing 6 perfectly balanced throwing knives under his belt, but there was a problem…it took him lest than a second to realize it… two knives were missing from the holster… a second too late.

The sergeant of the squad quickly fire rounds to the second man, but he wasn't there anymore, he moved sideways and grabbed the gun pulling it down… the fired bullets ended up in his right leg and he screamed in pain…this is it, the end, he through to himself…he will slit my throat from side to side, but instead of dying he got hit with an fighting stick taken from his armor, he fell down.

Evey couldn't control herself and started to cry and scream…she started to run away from the fighting and that the man in the Guy Fawkes mask try to grabbed her but couldn't… he left her go.

The fighting was vicious and ended rather fast with all the soldiers down…the two man stood up from different sides and looked with contained rage and respect, those that faced the wrath of code name V were dead…the others were not, even if they were severely bruised they are alive.

-Anything broken- ask the guy with the faceless mask.

-Just my stride- Answer the terrorist known as "V'.

-You'll get over it- replied Q.

-As you would too- answered V.

-This was a good sparring match, let's do it again sometime- said the shadow with the white mask and as swift as the wind he banished.

Q had to get out of those sewer holes, but his clothes were a wreck and he didn't know which way to go…he was trapped in this forsaken city in a city full of cops who shoot first and ask questions later, his kind of town.

A female voice came from the other tunnel… Q she said.

-Over here darling- He replied being more aware of the surroundings.

She almost gasp for air when she saw the state he was in… his clothes were torn to shreds and he seemed scared, like he watched a ghost or something.

-You ok?- She asked.

-I guess so- he answered.

-You are lucky to have along you known - She said almost with a smile.

-Hardly, you're drawn to my eccentric charm- he replied.

We have to get back to the hotel…fast.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry I've taken so much time to write another episode in this saga… this is by far the most difficult story I have in progress right now, hope you like the results.**

**I don't own V, Q, Huntress or other related character from the DC/Vertigo comics; but Charlene, Eddie and Charles are mine.**

5th of November, 12:15

When the illusion of safety has been shattered by the reality old uncertainties come back to hunt the mortals that dwells between their hopes and failures; some of them pretended that didn't listen to the music because they were too tired when they got to bed; some even would claim that they didn't heard the explosion due to the isolation of the room… but in reality everyone in London knew even if they didn't know what happened that things were never going to be the same.

A couple in their mid thirties decided to talk about the explosion in their kitchen, away from the rooms; all they could digest at the time is that the situation was surreal, medieval, just like the many stories of conspiracies against the state, Protestant vs. Catholics, Oliver Cromwell, Queen Elizabeth I, Guy Fawkes you know history book stuff…they were planning on going to bed after listening to the late night show of Lewis Prothero who was finishing the show called voice of London with the over the top and hollow tagline: **"Strength through unity, unity through faith, an as always England Prevails"** he turned off the T.V, and kissed her little Charlene in the cheek and then followed her wife to the bedroom.

When the music started to play on the streets, the husband who was once a music student recognized the piece as "**Tchaikovsky 1812**" and told himself he was possibly dreaming, he haven't heard that song in ages…after the hard work in the factory sometimes he was so tired that he didn't know when a day ended and other day started; what happened to the music student who played the cello? He got older and frightened… he loved music but marriage and the birth of their beautiful baby changed all that...the political system abruptly grew distant, aggressive and different was suddenly unhealthy. He had a wife and a daughter and couldn't pay the bills playing in the music conservatory, soon after the Norseparty took over the conservatory was demolish and a memorial for the victims of Saint Mary's was erected.

-Charles darling, what happened? - The wife Eddie asked her husband who was boiling water, the sound of the steam helped to cover up their words, _in this small apartment anything can be heard and everyone around might or might not be a snitch_. She told herself.

-Can't tell darling, probably they run the news by the telly? - The husband answered while making some tea to calm their nerves... his hands were shaking and spill some of the tea on the table, he took a cleaning cloth from the cabinet and proceed to clean the mess up, he just couldn't stopped his hands from trembling.

-I've heard a loud bang; you don't think they tried to blow up the parliament? - The wife asked her husband again with a worried face.

-Eddie please- responded Charles with a soft loving tone, he took a while to think what was he going to say next - Do not jump into conclusions and keep the plotting conjectures to yourself; we don't want to be black bagged by the fingermen- Charles responded back.

-Yes husband- In her youth she would had argue the tone, but she knows he's right and scared…he is Irish and he was in the Saint Mary's when it happened, 80,00 children died out a horrible diseased that disappeared with the help of a medical corporation with close ties with the current government.

-Hope It didn't wake Charlene up- Charles told his beloved wife Eddie.

-Our baby still slumbers- she said peacefully.

Little did they know that 12 year old Charlene woken up by the fireworks, it's been so long since she saw fireworks with his daddy and mommy…she was ecstatic but didn't feel like calling her parents, she stared at the window for some time and then had a glimpse of two shadows moving past her street, the first one a female with long dark hair and the second is walking with some difficulty while holding his chest with both arms.

_There are no coincidences, only the illusion of coincidence _the shadow told himself while arriving upon his lair… the final act of his play has just started, twenty years in the making but the explosion and the confusion that followed made it all worth it. Some changes occurred from the way he anticipated: Fist the girl named Evey was merely an amusement to spice my passionate monologue, but suddenly I felt like explaining myself to her, supposedly I just wanted a witness to the attack at the corrupt system which soon will be manipulated by the young and brilliant Dascomb into nothing more than a reconstruction tale gone terribly wrong. It's a shame that his talents are expended in a foolish attempt to control the country.

Second: The American, I first expected to find myself an assassin or a spy send by High Chancellor Sutler, my activities may have not come unnoticed to the party leader Creedy; 3 persons to go to complete my vendetta against the leaders in Larkhill, but I can't stop there…I have to keep pushing until we take out the cancer that is corrupting the peoples hearts, good blokes who care about their families and want a beautiful future for their children; I'm getting ahead of myself.

His provocative attitude was disrespectful yet was original, he didn't know who was fighting and underestimate my skills yet he quickly recovered and help me out of the sewer…he seems to be a man after my own heart….but is too early to tell…the game has just started.

The shadows cover the man as he takes out the wig and the mask leaving an empty silhouette looking intensely at the mirror…searching for his own reflection.

-We have to split up- Q told Huntress as they left the sewers, they were tourist that didn't know their way around town…the were unmistakably sitting ducks.

-Don't be stupid you're injured- Huntress reply concerned.

-Yes, but they are going to be looking for men outside the hotel, women are less likely to be apprehended or incarcerated- Q responded in a neutral tone….he had trouble breathing but his voice had only a slight variation…he was trying to keep focused on the problem in hand.

_He's anxious for me _That is the idea that went through her mind…she wanted to fight the decision but she is older and wiser now…she shouldn't feel guilty for leaving him, he's capable even injured to take care of himself and she knows that he'll never show any weakness in front of her, not because he is proud…that just his eccentric way.

-Ok, I'll meet you in 5 minutes in the hotel- Huntress quickly run towards the back side of the hotel, trying to break in through the door or a window.

I am 2 blocks away and to get closer to the hotel I've must get to the rooftop of the building, he told himself, in a couple of minutes the place would be crowed with soldiers and believe when I say is their policy to shoot first and ask question later; the old district had the difference that the buildings were not very high…they were centennial and any structural reconstruction was forbidden… he needs to get to his room before the guard woke up, if not…well guess my vacation would meet a rather infamous end.

Creedy was upset, he knew High Chancellor Sutler would be calling any minute now asking for results; they didn't have any…the soldiers haven't been as effective as expected, most of the citizens woke up after the blast…his special forces were 8 soldiers short…he'll have to send an investigating fingermen to find them.

They keep talking about a masked vigilante who kills government officials without leaving any trace, we'll if they want terror…they'll see terror, I'm going to let a demented fool embarrassed me…he'll take action immediately.

-Dascomb, would you please run a 30 second segment about the demolition of the old bailey- Creedy told Dascomb with an arrogant manner.

-Yes, we'll be working on it right away- Dascomb rushed outside the room to call the station, he hated Creedy but was too afraid to let it show.

-Finch we are looking for one man on a black costume- Creedy told the Chief Inspector.

-How do you know that? - Finch replied dryly…_He's holding out on me, that arrogant fool._

-We've been pursuing a terrorist for quite some time, he leaves a calling card…a "V', I think this has his signature all over it? - Creedy was not used to give information to anyone, but he must give something to this Irish half breed to work.

-Why wasn't informed of this before?- Finch was not very happy, first he was called upon a yellow emergency, didn't get the chance to use his detectives and now all of the sudden got informed that Creedy knew it was a terrorist attack all along.

-National Security- Creedy shouted finishing any attempts to advance in the conversation.

-Right- Finch looks over the shoulder and finds his lieutenant Dominic, he whispers something and goes out the room, perplexed, upset, but most of all…pissed.

Finch is a good cop… a man with his share of bad nights, but this one without a doubt would be the longest one-

**Hope you like what I've done so far… I'm trying to be faithful to the original material while getting one on one with the dynamics of Huntress-Q and Evey and V.**

**Please review, it would mean so much to me and if you have any ideas concerning the path I must take to make this a better fic, please inform.**


	5. Chapter 5

-I'm getting to old for this- said Q to himself just as he found a building tall enough for the spectacular jump he had to make to get to his room on the hotel, an hour ago he was thinking about himself 10 years ago; about how would life be if we have more vacation together, Huntress was getting inside his skin he had to admit it, she was little by little growing into a softer side he didn't knew he had, until now, there were both ready to explore the relationship, and then this happened, like a hurricane that torn apart a peaceful tropical beach, we got caught into this, and people say I hate my life … almost 15 feet apart from the balcony, one hell of a jump, he choose to look down…bad idea….he felt dizzy and lightheaded right away…he is hurt and as much he would like to deny it, he has his doubts about making it, but there is not turning back now.

-I'm going to hate myself in the morning- he said while jumping from the rooftop.

XxX

-We found her outside curfew hours- said a soldier to Chief Inspector Finch while grabbing the arm of Helena, she was buying time and didn't felt like wrestling with the soldier, it would be a great mistake, a dead giveaway… she had to buy time for Q.

-Dame, can you explained what were you doing outside past eleven?- Finch asked, he tried very hard to be as decent as possible to possible witnesses…before Creedy gets his dirty mitts on them and black bagged them.

-I was scared and had to get out of the hotel- Helena answered the inspector with contained rage.

-You American?- Finch asked, her accent was rare in London this time of year, our society haven't been opened since the Norseparty regime arrived and the last thing we want is the possibility of a diplomatic incident.

-Yes, and if I may asked for a moment of your time…I have to tell you something detective- Helena tone of voice clearly lowered to imply a hush-hush situation.

-Yes you may, and is Inspector lady- Finch didn't like to be called detective, but that is the thing with Americans, they just don't reasonably understand the social and political differences in the old country.

-A soldier tried to attack me in my room- She said trying to hold back the tears of embarrassment.

-He tried what? Are you sure? - He didn't to a certain extent believe her but after watching her a while he had to admit she was a very beautiful woman with a lot of sophistication, her beautiful black hair well treated and nails perfectly manicure…but as always he had his doubts.

-Yes, I hit him with a champagne bottle- she replied back.

Finch looked around and called Dominic who was outside taking description of the explosion, there were no eye witnesses…not even a description that matches the one given from Creedy, a man with a white mask and a black robe…too weird, even for this town…he approaches the girl and the inspector.

-Yes sir- Dominic looked at the girl while holding his breath...she was too beautiful.

-I need you to look for any soldier inside the premises that has a head injury- Finch told him in his impervious tone that accepted no reply.

-May I inquire why? - Dominic responded at the strange request.

-All in due time, lieutenant… no find it, there is one that I'm sure while looking at Helena, which has giving her best damsel in distress performance…she looked up, asking god in a silent prayer that he got in the room in time.

XxX

The shadow lurks around his house, the gallery of shadow is what he calls it, he looks for an old version of the Count of Monte Cristo movie and puts it in the VCR recorder… he loved that movie…he always found Mondego more like Creedy and less like High Chancellor Sutler, some people are so evil that they can't see the line anymore, who was the man with the faceless feature mask, was he supposed to kill me? He was an educated man which ruled out the possibility of working for the government, what was his agenda? The fact that he didn't kill anyone even in the risk of his own life didn't pass unnoticed, did he manage to escape? If so…will I see him again? If so, who would win?

Alas, the story starts its second act, there are no coincides…only the illusion of coincidence…I'll see him again as I am certain that the young woman who called herself Evey will be a major part in this play…the paradox continues it's entropy.

XxX

Creedy didn't like to see the inspector taking to a relative unimportant witness, cops don't understand the term "National Security". He approached them with arrogance and asked:

-What is delaying the investigation? - Creedy voice sounded like a cat while hissing.

-The lady has come to my attention with the most disturbing news- Finch replied dryly without looking at Creedy.

-What is that? - Creedy responded with disdain and discarded the insolence showed by the Inspector, he will deal with that later.

-That one of your soldier tried to…let me put some way delicate, to get intimate with her- he said with a sharp tone while moving his eyes in front of him, secretly confronting him.

-That is absolutely preposterous- Creedy couldn´t let the investigation deviate for an instant, but a girl making accusations like that in a five star hotel was something rather important, even he had to admit to that.

-Is it? - Finch looked at Dominic who came with a man with a wounded head.

-Is this the man who attack you?- asked finch while holding the soldier head up high, the kid had a serious injury…even she felt sorry for the poor bastard.

-Yes- she answered back.

Creedy couldn´t let this turned into an incident…-Are you alone in London? - He asked the girl, he realized she was American…

-No, my boyfriend is here with me- she answered while acknowledging she felt right on the trap…she knew they would now search the room and since charges should be brought up they would take her passport.

-So is settle, let's go to the room and see what really happened- Finch told everyone believing that the night was getting stranger by the moment.

She could only pray that Q made the jump.


End file.
